


When the Hammer Falls

by Ranowa



Series: The Thanos Problem [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Insomnia, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, calm being Loki's Issues, it's the calm before the storm, storm being infinity war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranowa/pseuds/Ranowa
Summary: Loki has something that he needs to tell Thor.Naturally, he's going to tell just about everyone else but.





	When the Hammer Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Well, he's not going it alone, anymore... so that's a point for Loki, at least? Half a point? ...no? 
> 
> Eh, he's trying :'D
> 
> This is technically part II in a series, but no need to read the first if you don't want to. This and that are pretty much missing scenes bordering on AU, so this'll make sense fine. Just some more on Loki's Thanos Problem ;u;
> 
> (and now, MCU fandom gets another one of my staples: a chronic inability to shut my damn mouth and write a fic shorter than 10k. Have fun!)
> 
> July 2019 edit: just housekeeping and grammar, don't mind me

They had only been at sail for a day and a half when it hit him.

It wasn't surprising. Not really. Rather than a blow like his brother's lightning on a clear day, it came just a gentle pinprick, in the back of his mind- the settling of one puzzle piece just a little more for it to slide gently into place, and with it, was-

Acceptance.

He smiled slightly to himself, curled up in the dark.

Most curious.

Acceptance.

Slowly, achingly quiet, Loki sat up, scrupulously careful not to make the slightest sound. It was their first night-cycle, on the ship, or something close to it- the night and day cycles that were used in space travel, without a planet and a star to orbit. There had been a mad scramble, this first day, to try and assign and divide up as many rooms and families as they could, but there were hundreds of refugees and this was not a vessel designed for passenger transport. There were dozens left homeless as of yet, and together, bereft of energy and will, they'd gathered in the greatest room the ship had, to sleep and hope for a better tomorrow.

He could tell, even in his silent watch, that he was not alone.

There were a few others sitting up outright, no pretense had at doing the proper thing and sleeping. And then there were others, huddled figures under blankets but murmuring against the lull of the ship's engines, and still others caught awake but unspeaking.

For once, he wasn't the only one caught awake in the middle of the night.

For once, he could cast his self-absorption aside, and accept that the other refugees, but one day out from their homes and friends and family all slaughtered together on one massive funeral pyre, had as much cause to be as restless as him.

Loki smiled faintly, hands wrung together again.

Four years pretending to be their King, he supposed, had rubbed off on him. Just a little.

Odin would just have been so proud.

While he was not alone in being awake, though, he might as well have been, because in the little group he'd found himself in (through absolutely no choice of his own), he was the only one. The- oh, what had they called it- the... _Revengers._

Loki sniffed.

Ridiculous.

Thor, historically a heavy sleeper, was out as cold as a rock on one side, and by the look of him if the day had gone on for much longer, he would have keeled over right then, right there. His eye was healing, as much as it ever would, but it was healing in a way that demanded bedrest, and pain relief, and little to no stress, and careful looking after. If he'd sustained that injury yet a few weeks ago, he would've been relegated to the infirmary for days.

And meanwhile, Thor was the newly coronated king of a band of injured, scared refugees without a home, and piloting them out into the great unknown with horrendously limited resources and not even a shred of a plan to speak of.

It was no wonder that he was out so heavily.

On his other side, meanwhile, was Dr. Banner, which- Loki huffed silently, pursing his lips. He was quite sure that had been no accident, by the little glint in his brother's eye when they'd set out their sleeping arrangements for the night. No, it had been no accident _at all._ But he'd accepted it all the same, bowing his head with bared teeth and his pride intact because the alternative was being afraid of a _Midgardian_ and- well. _No._

To his credit, though, Dr. Banner had actually not once threatened him, or even made a single suggestive move to cause him to be wary. He was as quiet and unassuming as a mortal ought to be, and even now was perfectly quiet next to him, curled peacefully on his side and vanishingly small under the blankets.

He supposed it was to be expected that Dr. Banner had learned how to sleep anywhere, and at any time. That even after the madness that was Ragnarok, and the probable mental instability after the insanity that had been Sakaar, he would be able to calm himself down back to a settled baseline and rest. It was almost even admirable.

Loki would've been thankful, if he wasn't still so irritated with Thor for dumping the monster next to him in the first place.

The Valkyrie was there, too. Facedown on Thor's other side, and every bit as comically half-dead as his brother.

Loki smiled nastily again, and then, because nobody was awake to see it, allowed it to soften just to grim. The Valkyrie, he supposed, really would be used to this by now, wouldn't she? The battle lost so badly that the war that they'd won was hollow all the way down, and the cost, too high to be paid.

He'd never had much question as to why she'd drowned herself neck deep in Sakaarian alcohol to begin with. Now, sitting up here in the dark, he rather felt he could use a drink himself.

He didn't drink. Not when it was his choice, at least, and there was not a leering Grandmaster who asked one too many questions if he turned down the glass of sparkling blue wine stuck through with cherries. He'd used to, but-

 _Well,_ he thought, smiling again. The days when it was safe for him to let his guard down so carelessly were long past.

Still.

Wouldn't have minded a drink.

Loki sighed again, pinching the skin on his forehead. There was no stirring around him, not the slightest of twitches, but somehow the recognition that he was not _alone-_ that there were so many others stirring awake here, just like him, made the crowd of surviving Asgardians squeeze him like a claustrophobic crypt. Which was positively moronic, but he'd learned to accept a lot of dreadfully pathetic things about himself, lately, and that was just one of them.

So without time wasted for so much as a second thought, Loki breathed in deep again, and then, pushed to his feet.

Thor was pathetically easy to step over. So easy that Loki had to draw to a pause, frowning down at his limp snuffling, then carefully drag the blanket back just an inch closer with his heel. "Oaf," he whispered, and Thor whuffed.

_Oaf._

Trying to step over the Valkyrie, however, was a bit less than successful.

In hindsight, actually, flat on his back, straddled with knees to his wrists and a hand to his throat, and his head ringing dizzier than ten drinks and a whack with Mjolnir, he maybe should've thought better than to try and maneuver about a veteran Valkyrie while asleep.

Her eyes flickered, the hot haze clearing from a clouded gaze- would've been admirable, if he wasn't still pinned on his back and a hand at his throat. "Unhand me," he hissed, and somehow, she had the grace to not look embarrassed as she obeyed.

He would've forgiven her entirely for that alone, if she had not then gotten to her feet, and _followed him._

Loki's mouth twitched, and his irritation flared so strong it took an effort to stop it from coming out in a pointed stab of magic.

"I do not wish for company," he snapped, the very moment the door behind them was eased closed. He settled himself back against the wall, and he knew his careful glamours were probably a waste against her but he clung to one anyway, not a hair out of place as his arms folded and his ankles crossed back against the wall. "If you do, then Heimdall does not dream yet. You might go and speak with him."

The Valkyrie stared back- yes. She could see the glamour, all right. "Not really interested in company, either," she said, much too at ease, and from simply nowhere, either the inside of a thigh or perhaps somewhere even more exposed, she withdrew a flask. "You want a drink?"

"No, thank you."

She downed a sip, and the smell of it, whatever it was, was so strong that it made his tongue curl. _Vile._

"You're sure?" she asked, rolling the flask between her hands. "The Grandmaster-"

"Allow me to put it this way," he said quietly, eyes slipping closed. His hands twitched, missing the weight of a dagger or a staff, and he only forced himself to forego it because he knew the Valkyrie would be about as unimpressed as absolute zero. "Out of all the people on this ship, the one you want least to not be in the fullest control of himself is Dr. Banner. The second name on the list is mine."

"...point taken."

She then, weight shifted to one leg, other boot tapping a slow, unhurried pattern on the floor, took another swig.

Loki scowled again, restraining the urge to snarl at her to get away. This was not- _not-_ what he'd wanted to happen for tonight. Honestly. What about him slipping out here in the middle of the night had not screamed _I'd like to be alone?_ "Was there something in particular that you wished to discuss?" he bit out, glaring. "Or did you merely tire of keeping watch amongst my brother's snoring, and wish for a change of scenery instead?"

"Actually," she said, expression never quite mollifying. They were both on edge, here. "I followed because it's sort've my business, what goes on with the throne. Which includes you, New Crown Prince Lackey."

His mouth twitched again, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "I see. If that is your quarrel with me, then I'd recommend you return to our injured and convalescing king's side." This time, he did not hesitate, lifting a hand for a dagger to shimmer out of thin air. "I think I might just be fine on my own."

The words garnered a roll of her eyes, and a flip of his dagger gave an even more aggressive groan, the Valkyrie looking almost as if she'd prefer to melt into the floor.

"All right, all right," she sighed, hand raising up in surrender that somehow didn't feel all that much like a victory. "I can see there's nothing wrong except a prince who wants to brood. Have a good night sulking in the dark, Lackey."

"I fully intend to," he growled, and that was simply all that he'd _wanted,_ and he was glad for it. He'd wanted to be alone, he certainly hadn't wanted to speak with the Valkyrie at all, and especially after not she'd bodyslammed him like a doll...

_Prince Lackey._

Loki swallowed, hard.

The Tesseract continued burning its hole in his interdimensional pocket.

"...Wait."

The Valkyrie stopped, hand mere inches away from the door and flask, already tilted up again. She raised an eyebrow at him, giving stiff shoulders a rolling pop, and waited with as much obedience as any proper king could demand.

He opened his mouth, and nothing came out.

The silence fought onwards. The Valkyire, of course, looking increasingly unimpressed, and Loki, suddenly all but so frozen he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"If this is... something you'd rather your brother-"

"No," he snapped, and was halfway proud of himself for not gasping it. That much, at least, he knew beyond all certainty. "No. This is not about Thor. I-" Jaw clenching, Loki let himself sink back against the wall again, hand passing over his face. _Ah, this was a mistake._ "My apologies. This was not my intention tonight, so if you'd just allow a moment for me to organize my thoughts..."

She said nothing, to that. Just- _looked_ at him, in that way of hers, that way that was silent yet infuriatingly perceptive, that way that made him pull his mental shields even tighter even though he knew she barely had a lick of magic.

Norns, but why did it have to be a Valkyrie.

_Ah, Lady Valkyrie, a question: what to do when one of the most powerful beings in the universe is headed our way with the power of the infinity stones and an army that can wipe out this entire ship?_

_You understand- a mere hypothetical. What you would do?_

He would've laughed aloud, it was so insensible. If it wouldn't have earned her staring at him as if he was mad.

"What would you do," he asked finally, "to protect this ship?"

The question came out nearly infuriatingly vague; he could see it in her eyes, in the fresh scowl at her mouth. Good. "You're going to have to be a little more specific, Your Highness."

He sighed again. _Loki,_ he wanted to say, _can you not just call me Loki,_ but it was so late, and standing there against the wall, he just felt so, so old. One thousand years young, for a god, but it was ancient for so many other kinds throughout the universe, and in that moment he felt as old as any of those, and none the wiser for it. Aching and sore and tired and heavy, so _tired_ of all the troubles the world had to give and living already on borrowed time.

Thor really did hate to hear him talk like this- melodramatic, maudlin, suicidal. Perhaps he should give a thought towards stopping.

Perhaps.

He tried again. "What would you do, if the ship were attacked, and- we did not have a chance at a victory? If we could not run or fight, if there was no avenue for another day, except..."

_There will be no barren moon, no forgotten realm, no crevice in which you can hide..._

_...and you shall know pain like you have never known it before._

Another breath caught in his throat, this one so wretched it wanted to taper into a groan of phantom pain.

"...yeah, this really sounds like something the new king should be involved in." Looking spectacularly unimpressed, which really only meant she wasn't taking his words at all seriously enough in the slightest, the Valkyrie pushed back off the wall to step right past him without looking back. She tugged at her armor, straightening the leathers, then oriented clearly straight back to Thor. "I'm going to-"

"I asked _you_ a question, Valkyrie, not King Thor, and not my brother. And if you insist upon fetching the King anyway, I'm not going to give him an answer, so if you really are at all interested in what I have to say then you will stay here, and _listen."_

She scowled again, scrutiny lingering along the seams of his glamour, but along with it came a waver in her dangerous eyes that was exactly what he was after. Hesitation was all he wanted, just a flicker of uncertainty to pounce on and capitalize, and there, finally- there it was. She did not go after Thor, for a moment did not even move at all, and for the first time, he was grateful to have her aboard.

Then she downed the rest of the flask in one swallow, settled herself back against the opposite wall with folded arms and an unreadable scowl, and asked, "Well?"

And that-

That was the question, wasn't it?

The question that he'd spent four years as a fake king running away from, because he didn't want to ask it, and wanted even less to answer it.

_(I thought I'd have more time.)_

"I think there is someone coming," he admitted finally, closing his eyes. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, searching for words that weren't alarmist yet still conveyed the truth. "I can't say when, but there is a chance that we are going to be attacked, and by an army we don't have the strength to repel."

"...All right," she said slowly, dark eyes wary. She was clearly on guard, now, and he couldn't very well blame her for it. "If we can't repel them, then how about avoiding an attack at all? I'm guessing they want something- can we give it to them?"

Loki flinched, slightly, a mere twitch that lay hidden his glamour, only for himself to see. "They do want something," he said. "They've a claim to- something from Asgard's vault. " He broke off for a moment, breathing hard through his mouth, trying to stop the world from tilting. "And me."

There was a stunned moment of silence.

Somehow, somewhere from high up and far away, his soul and seidr split. Shrouded underneath a second spell, Loki himself turned away, the darkness and stars around him tilting as lurched back, needing only to _get away_ while his double stayed back instead to stare at the Valkyrie, and wait.

"Well," she said, after perhaps only a moment or two of shock. To her credit; perhaps in a life like hers, after a certain point, she'd come to just take anything and everything in stride. "I see why you don't want Thor in on the discussion."

He nodded once, feeling faintly strangled. "Your answer, then?"

Her brow furrowed into silence, guarded gaze breaking as she stood, deep in thought, and at least Loki could give that he was grateful she had understood. That she had listened to him, and _heard_ him. Not sworn vengeance upon the source of his grievances, not promised protection that she could not give or a war that they did not have the strength to fight.

That she had listened to him.

As he already knew that Thor would not.

"If there is someone coming for us- coming through us, for you," she said finally, her voice grave but a glint there in her eye, a little spark of the familiar, the reckless flirtation with danger. "Then I think all you can do is lead him away. Run away so he chases after you, and leaves the ship alone."

 _He won't,_ he wanted to say, and he felt distant and cold, again. On his knees a hundred worlds away as he knelt on the Sanctuary, swearing fealty through a bleeding mouth. The enormous emptiness about them crushed inwards, pressing the breath out of his lungs and the cold out of his blood. _He's coming to punish me. He'll see me run and he'll crush all of you for it. There is no safe place, there is no speed at which I can run, there is no rock under which I can hide._

_He's coming._

He wanted to say all of those things. He wanted to look at that part of him that had been wanting to say them for five years and strip off the muzzle and let it breathe until it screamed.

"I know," he said, and smiled.

"If you _knew,_ then why did you ask me to begin with, Lackey?"

And for a heartbeat, Loki closed his eyes, and breathed.

The stars spun.

"When I run, Thor is going to want to follow. You, for the good of Asgard, for the safety of their king, must stop him."

For a few moments on, there was silence. Loki left his eyes closed, both his own and his double's, listening to the ship's engines and the quiet breath of the Valkyrie over the unsteady beat of his own heart. It should've been steady. It _ought to_ have been steady. This was a fate he'd known was coming to him for a very long time- and now, he had the unexpected aid of the last Valkyrie on his side. It was more than he deserved.

He'd just also not expected to have Thor there as well, when it all caught up to him.

He expected an argument, simply because that was so often what all his most drastic, worst-case scenarios always did. Nobody ever wanted to accept that the ending of all things could not be good, that there was not a way out where they all slid by unscathed. They all called him dramatic, and a pessimist, and a coward, a hopeless coward brooding about dark things because no proper Asgardian warrior would accept a plan that was one of sacrifice. _Honer before death,_ as they'd said... chanting it in a chorus as they charged right into the depths of Hel.

Astoundingly luckily for him, however, the Valkyrie had already had that fight. A last stand against the Goddess of Death in which they had all made the ultimate sacrifice, and she had seen how much that honor was truly worth in the blood on her hands and the dead at her feet.

 _A_ nd, she'd left.

Of all the warriors on this ship, suddenly Loki had hope that she might be able to truly understand.

"Lackey?"

Loki breathed in deeply once more, filling his lungs and tasting the recycled air. He left his real eyes closed, still, but allowed his double to open them, meeting the Valkyrie's gaze and refusing to allow himself to back down.

For a few moments more, there was nothing. Just the silent scrutiny of one of the most deadly people on this ship, her eyes watchful and her mouth set and her shoulders firm, and Loki could only stand and wait for her judgment to come.

And then, she grinned back.

"You know Thor won't ever forgive me, if this is how things end up going down."

And once again, Loki could breathe.

"He mightn't forgive me, either," he said, and he allowed himself his one genuine smile for the day. There were a great deal many reasons that Thor had to never forgive him, and Loki hardly had a litany of arguments to offer against him- another to the list, was just another to the list. _But he will be alive._ "You have my gratitude, Valkyrie. And I, assume, have your silence."

She grinned sharply back, and there was a look in her eye, one that said _this isn't okay,_ but still, she did not argue. "For Asgard," she said, and raised and swung her hand in what he very distantly recognized as the Midgardian custom of a high-five.

It sailed straight through.

There was a flicker of surprise, just a tiny start from someone who'd already had a day full of earth-shattering shocks and this one just didn't have the gravity to impact at all. Loki calmly dispelled the double, allowing him to fade with a bow of his head and the slightest smirk. _"For Asgard."_

The last thing he heard was an acknowledgement in _Your Highness,_ and the last thing he saw was the Valkyrie, bowing her head back in acceptance, a smile on her face and defeat in her eyes.

Then his double's tug on his seidr vanished, and his entire focus drowned back inwards to breathe back into the world around him. The ubiquitous engine hum, the ever-constant dull grey hull of the ship, but now instead of guarded by the watchful eyes of the Valkyrie, he was knelt safely away as far as he could get. Head rested back against the cool of the wall, arms looped tight about his knees, and totally, utterly alone.

He smiled again.

"For Asgard," he whispered, curled as close and protective about his core as he could get.

_I'm sorry, Thor._

* * *

The second time Loki sought someone out, it was intentional.

The days passed in a rough, uneasy manner. Tensions were high, the refugees were restless, and as one that they somewhat inexplicably looked to for leadership, Loki didn't really have a choice but to put on a careful glamour and play his part. He wasn't alone, at least- Thor and the Valkyrie were just as unsettled as he was, and when faced with the task of keeping this not at all appropriate vessel running and their injured, restless people settled...

Free time was a rarity, and patience was scarce. Bickering arguments came almost every day, disagreements over how to divide up resources or which station to dock at or _Norns, Loki, where've you been? Stop hiding, I swear, brother-_

Suffice it to say, the Thanos problem was safely settled at the back of his mind.

It was far easier to handle the day to day than to allow himself to face the very real problem that he might not be here for the tomorrow.

Loki still couldn't- or, rather, preferred not to- sleep. It wasn't quite that he could not, but he could feel the memories, niggling there at the back of his head, the whisper of sick spells, and just knew it wasn't worth the risk that he wake screaming. Not when Thor was asleep next to him. Frigga had hidden it for him without needing to be asked, while he was still imprisoned, and Loki had been able to draw upon the vast power of the Allfather to hide it himself when he had taken Odin's place, but now, when even his magic was starting to risk running scarce-

It was just safer to sleep as little as possible.

It was safer to keep running.

And there _was_ plenty to do at night, by far. Plenty to do overall, but Loki had always found it easier to work alone, and the ship was all but deserted when they passed into a night-cycle. Simple, sweaty, mind-numbing work was all that he could ask for, and it was exactly what he got.

Until one night came, and he knew he could put off his plans no longer.

He lingered meticulously, the day of, two hours passed when most of the ship had retired, and an hour still passed when Thor had done so himself, rubbing at his eyepatch and brow furrowed with the silent pain of a headache. As had become their new normal, Loki had eased his brother's worried glance with little more than a smile, promising he'd be along as soon as he finished sorting cataloguing the contents of this new discovery of crates, and wishing him a good night.

The way Thor's eye had lingered then had sent chills down his spine.

 _He knows something,_ that look had said.

But, his brother wasn't exactly going to order him to sleep, and neither could he keep watch until he did so himself, so Thor was just going to have to live with it, wasn't he?

And it was then, when everybody else was gone, and it had been long enough that the silence settled over the ship was as thick as the dust that coated its forgotten rooms, that he sought out Heimdall.

Somewhat predictably, he got a greeting before he'd even made it close enough to be heard.

"Good evening, my prince," the gatekeeper said, utterly, almost eerily still. His gaze remained focused on the stars and the black outside, and his voice, almost unfairly calm. "I trust it finds you well."

"As well as ever," Loki returned flatly, still lingering on cautiously by the entrance towards where Heimdall had set up watch. The gatekeeper was one of the few that was a constant, awake during the ship's night. He was also, blessedly, one who worked _alone,_ and Loki had been able to co-exist with him thus far.

The fact that the man just always _knew_ exactly what it was he was up to was simply one he'd learned to live with.

Reluctantly.

Bitterly.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Loki swept into the room, arms still folded tightly and glamour still neat and secure. Like the Valkyire, Heimdall would be able to tell one was at play, but that wasn't quite the point of the matter. "I seek counsel," he said, facing the black expanse of the Void that spread, massive and unlimited, before them.

"You know my ears are as open as my eyes, Loki."

He grimaced wordlessly, biting at the inside of his lip. _Yes, I do. That's actually a bit of the problem_. "I wish to know what the Gatekeeper of Asgard has heard or seen, concerning the Mad Titan."

"The Mad Titan," Heimdall said slowly. His gaze did not turn onto him, but knowing Heimdall, that meant extraordinarily little. "You mean Th-"

_"Don't say his name."_

The remnants of suffocated spells whispered in his head, itching in scars that were so deep he could feel them down to his soul, and it took every last scrap of exhausted control that he had not to give in.

"That... is to say-" he coughed dryly, swallowing, because Heimdall was staring at him now and if he did not speak now, if he did not disarm the worry, then this would spiral into something that he could not take back. "I worry that his name can attract... undue attention. The Mad Titan's. It would be best not to say it aloud. But- yes. We speak of the same man."

Heimdall's eyes narrowed again, yet Loki hold his silence and his peace. A summons curse on a name was exceedingly rare, and exceedingly weak for it. For one with a net as wide as Thanos', a spell to call his attention whenever his name was said was not worth the power to cast it, or the immeasurable reserves of strength it would take to extend it out so very far across the Void.

Unfortunately, Heimdall knew this.

"Then you ask a difficult question, my prince," the gatekeeper said at length, gaze still lingering and too quiet for any cold comfort. There was a suspicion, now, an unease that rolled off of him in waves. "I have heard but rumors. But there are many, concerning the Mad Titan. If there is something specific, perhaps, that you are after..."

Loki refused to rise to the bait, still forcibly turned away and narrowed eyes left to focus only on the stars abound. _Don't ask it,_ he snarled in his head, _don't ask it._ There was no need to. The past was the past, and the future was the future, and only one of them mattered. Only one did he have the slightest ability to change, and only one of them had brought him up here to speak to Heimdall.

Only one would not utterly debase and humiliate him, would not-

_No, Loki, do not ask it, do NOT..._

'When I fell," he said, and there the words were. Dragged out into the open permanently and forever, and too late to be ever taken back. "Did you ever..."

_Did you ever look?_

"...hear him?" He swallowed once, clearing the rasp from his throat. "Did you ever hear me?"

Heimdall stared silently back, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Loki again refused to rise to his wordless challenge, staring back only out the reinforced glass into Void beyond; couldn't yield even an inch, even as his heart strangled and his breaths wanted to lurch and his head pounded. Slowly, in an achingly business-like manner, Loki clasped his hands behind his back, and waited.

Once again, he felt so distant, so many miles removed from Heimdall, from Thanos, from his brother and the ship. It felt as if he himself had become a stranger. He could hear the words as he said them, and feel the numb coldness infect him all the way through, and listen to the uneven beat of his heart, and none of it felt as if it was within him.

He thought he liked it better, that way.

"...No," Heimdall said at last. "I listened, and I watched. But I never heard you, Loki."

His fingers twitched, and his expression twitched with it. For a moment he wanted to leave- the same way he'd found himself wanting to fade away from all contact, as of late; to wave his hand and separate to leave Heimdall talking to a ghost as he fled for his own haven. Simply, anywhere that was not _with_ people. Anywhere where he could be alone. But it would've been just doubly embarrassing to do so with Heimdall, who'd _know,_ and his pride was already a scarce and precious a resource as oxygen on this ship, but-

Ah, for that moment, he was all but weak at the knees with dizzy relief.

 _I never heard you_ wasn't the same answer as _I never listened._

He'd... known, of course. Frigga had told him. Thor and Heimdall had looked. And he'd believed it, because his mother had been a witch but not a liar, not when it mattered, not like him. Thanos had told him Thor had never come because Thor had never _looked,_ but he'd truly be remiss if he'd believe the titan capable of genocide and torture but not _lies..._ so he'd always known, of course, never doubted, never dared wonder...

Loki dragged in another breath, again feeling as if from far away.

"Yes," he heard himself say, at last. "Yes, well. Be that as it may." His fingers wrung tighter together behind his back, and he still stared on to the stars outside, refusing to acknowledge Heimdall's piercing and now, somewhat alarmed stare. "The Mad Titan may hide from your sight, but we don't hide from his."

This time the alarm was certain, and for a breath, the gatekeeper was knocked speechless. Even when he recovered himself his shoulders held tight and his eyes flashed, a wordless spark that was at once everything and nothing that Loki wanted to hear. "Are you trying to tell me that Th- this Mad Titan has set his eyes on what remains of Asgard? The rumors say that he strikes as a plague, taking half a population only to leave the other half unscathed; is this what you think he has set out to do?"

"He might," he agreed carelessly, offering a nod as calm as a discussion over tea. _You will know pain like you have never known it before..._ "He might aim for both halves."

"Loki, I think you'd best stop mincing words and tell me what it is you came here to say."

"I'm saying that the Mad Titan might be coming for the Statesman, and I'm asking that if that day comes, you do what you can to get the rest of the Asgardians to relative safety. It's me that he wants, and if I lead the titan himself away, you'll at least have a chance." He tugged his tunic tighter, pulling it unwrinkled and smooth over the remains of scars, and still, because it was all that was safe, kept his gaze turned away. "I've already spoken with the Valkyrie. She will see to the king. I ask you to see to the people."

"I see. And, is there a reason that I should endorse this secrecy from our new king? Or did you merely approach me and assume that I would out of the goodness of my heart?"

Loki allowed himself a faint smile; still couldn't quite face him, or his sharp-eyed scrutiny. "Quite frankly: yes. The latter."

Heimdall's eyes narrowed.

"Asgard is not a place, Heimdall. It's a people," he said, and his eyes flickered closed again. His hands felt numb; his head, so dizzy, so distant. Every breath felt as cold as the space surrounding them on all sides, ice crystallizing in him from the inside out. "And certain people are more... necessary, than others. Sometimes sacrifices must be made, and- while I have the fullest of faith in Thor's ability to be a good king- you'll forgive me if I don't wish to risk everything on the king's fortitude alone. Not when the stakes are so high, and..."

_You will know pain like you have never known before._

"...not when there shall be no second chance."

The watchman tsked his tongue, unbothered by his restrained shiver, so unbothered by it that Loki wanted to scream. "I'm sure." He turned back to his own vigil with hunched shoulders and an aura of discontent, the sword of the Bifrost clutched close almost as a talisman, a keepsake instead of an artifact. "Why is it, then, that I get the feeling you make this request for your own benefit, and not for the king's?"

"I don't know. As a matter of fact, I find your feelings wholly irrelevant on the matter, to begin with. Ultimately, whatever my motivation for this request, it is immaterial- only that it would benefit the people of Asgard, and their new king. A fact which I know you understand, and is why I did not ask for your word, to ensure your silence: the safety and prosperity of Asgard ensures that, instead." Loki grinned, once, a sharp, poisonous little grin to bring this conversation to an immediate end, heels neatly clicked together and then pivoted dismissively away. The Valkyrie was risky in the same way that Heimdall was downright dangerous: the longer they spoke, the more that would be gleamed that he had no wish to tell them.

The longer he stayed with Heimdall, the more risk that something would come to light that he couldn't take back.

"Prince Loki, may I speak freely?"

Apprehension bloomed in his throat, as bitter and infectious as a poisonous flower.

"...You may speak however it is you like," he said slowly, the flicker of anger only held back by his last scrap of fraying self-control. "I am not the king. Nothing binds you to speak formally with me."

Heimdall made a small noise behind him, one of faint displeasure, it sounded as if, then fell into another breath of silence. " _Prince_ Loki," he began anew, voice low and filled with a quiet warning. "I have spent a thousand years, watching you and your brother fight valiantly for Asgard. All I'm asking from you tonight, is to understand why you now choose to die for it rather than fight."

His hands curled again, a reflexive shudder that had him wanting to bring his arms up around to protect his magical core. He said nothing, at first, yielded nothing, but in that silent, lonely space of the ship, the Void about him and the gatekeeper at his back, he truly had no answer.

_Because I know I can't win this fight._

_Because I'm tired of fighting battles I can't win._

_Because I've spent my whole life running, and now there's nowhere to run to._

_Because if I leave this time, I know Thor will never let me come back._

_Because I'm scared._

His mouth ran dry, and even before Heimdall's all-seeing eye, he just could not stop the traitorous, sick quiver in his hands.

So he took a deep breath, and banished it.

Banished _all of it._

It took a moment, at first- his seidr wavering in instinctual protest, a cold clench at his heart as the illusions were stripped down, one by one. First the one that painted the image of a prince, his third and most natural skin, but then the second one came down, too, and while the first one fell like silk this scraped like sandpaper and barbed wire. The glamour tugged and howled at his soul, stripped down so agonizingly he almost saw blood drop to follow it- but there was no blood, no pain, no anything save for the sick, stomach-wrenching disgust at the sight of the _**monster.**_

And then, blue-skinned, red-eyed, and as cold as the Void outside, Loki turned back around.

"My birthright," he quoted calmly, "was to die."

Heimdall didn't flinch back, to whatever credit Loki was willing to give him. Didn't react at all.

A pity.

Loki smiled to him, showing teeth too long and sharp, feeling the flex of horns on his head, claws on his hand, breathing faintly just to see the air freeze before him and let Heimdall see it, too. "Perhaps I tire of running to escape it," he said. A second nasty smile, spreading his hands, another breath of ice.

It was meant to shock him. Meant to disintegrate all questions into dust and by the time he'd remembered them, he'd be far, far away, hidden from his sight and safe from any interrogation to peel the layers back for the truth. It was _meant_ to stun him as he bared his teeth and breathed ice like the monster within, then turned his back to sweep away in one last, forcibly dramatic exit.

Before he'd even made it to the door, the faithful and loyal gatekeeper stopped him.

"I don't think it's anyone's birthright to die, Prince Loki."

Loki stilled, halfway through another step. His steady grin flinched, worming a tiny crack in his facade that he clung to as tightly as he grabbed for his glamours.

Then, with another calming breath, he smoothed his facade back down, and with it, at last slipped dizzily back into his shapeshifted Asgardian form.

"Yes," he called carelessly, raising a hand. "Well, the late Allfather, in all of his vast and reaching wisdom, disagreed."

And with that, he left.

He spent the rest of the night lost in an old storage room littered with crates, sorting through them with a mind-numbing nausea, and rocking faintly on the cold, hard floor.

* * *

Their journey continued.

Thanos never showed.

And Loki... hid.

He avoided everyone that he could, Heimdall most of all, and the Valkyrie when it was serviceable. Avoiding Thor, he'd known, would've drawn more questions than answers, questions that he couldn't answer, so he didn't _avoid_ his brother, so much as avoid anything actually... meaningful.

It wasn't hard. Thor wasn't quite the oaf he'd used to be, but he was also stressed, tired, and with an entire people and ship that needed his undivided attention. Loki could tell his brother was suspicious, a few times, but he was always able to disarm it with nothing more than a word.

He expected that by the time Thor realized something was amiss, it would be too late to matter.

He didn't need to sleep; not, at least, as badly as mortals did. Aesir would crumble, eventually, but it took months, while it would take a mortal mere days, and mages like him could forestall for even longer. It wasn't that it was advisable, or even remotely healthy, and he knew if his mother had still been alive, she would've stopped it in an instant.

 _Well,_ he'd thought viciously, time and time again, _she's not here._

And if his days were numbered, he did not want to spend them having nightmares and unrest.

Loki took up to haunting the engine rooms, for a few days. They were filthy and somewhat lacking in creature comforts, which, while unfortunate for him, also guaranteed he would not be disturbed. There was little he could do except catalogue parts, and wait for morning.

Except this time, footsteps came to his self-imposed solitude.

His frayed magic slipped between his fingers, so tired and worn that it took a heartbeat to grapple for a camouflaging spell. Green light sputtered and coughed on his hands, his arms flickering in and out of sight as a blade formed in his grip-

And then it was too late, and the door was already open.

To reveal, most curiously, Bruce Banner.

The mortal was shuffling inside exuding distraction and an absent mind, papers overflowing in his hands as he tried to nudge up his glasses with an elbow. Loki wasn't shrouded from sight, but was, as he had learned to be, half-hidden and blended into the shadows, and because of it he was able to at first escape further notice. At first, he was perfectly free to do nothing more than watch, and wait.

For approximately three seconds.

The shocked splutter and stumble in his feet when he finally searched about the room to find him was almost entertaining enough to make it worth it.

"Hello, Bruce," Loki said, smiling faintly, just because it seemed to unsettle him. By his reaction alone, it was apparent that he had not come here looking for him, and that was enough. "Having a busy evening?"

Dr. Banner coughed and stumbled and flushed, trying to straighten his papers and look less obviously embarrassed at the same time. Again, it would've been almost entertaining, if Loki was not very painfully aware of just how badly he would lose, if the mortal really wanted it to happen. "I suppose," he said, trying for an unassuming, weak smile. "I wanted to try to make adjustments to the- stabilizer, I think it's called. Last project for the day before I turn in, Scout's honor."

Loki raised an eyebrow at that, but whether it was strange Midgardian vernacular or his own heavy lack of sleep that was confusing him, Dr. Banner sidled in without further comment, heading straight towards one of the more complicated seeming panels on the wall. He seemed already quite set and determined on his task, whatever it was, and that was all Loki needed to see.

"Well, then," he announced with a grieved sigh. "I shall leave you to it, Dr. Banner." He straightened to his feet, glamour slipping against his fingers again. It was too late for a full shapeshift, but perhaps just a slight touch-up...

"Oh, wait- actually- Loki? Do you think you could stay? Just for a few minutes?" He managed another slight smile, lifting up one of the blueprints in his arms with an almost abashed shrug. "It's fine if you're busy, but the stuff this is made out of is actually really strong, and I guess I've gotten used to using you Asgardians as my tools. I'm pretty sure Thor can lift a truck with one hand and still not break a sweat."

Loki frowned wordlessly, staring down past folded arms to the man now curled up on the floor. "I'm not Asgardian," he said, and wasn't sure why.

There was an uncomfortable, pregnant pause. The doctor's smile faded a little, like a dimming light, and Loki's heart weighed down like lead.

Then, still quite not understanding why, he dropped back down to cross his legs on the cold floor, and let his head lean back against the wall.

He could at least do this.

Dr. Banner went quiet for a minute, the only sound between them the faint mechanical clicks as he prodded away, crouched over the panel that Loki had no interest in; had no will to even feign interest in. He muttered a few times under his breath, scratching something down at the papers scattered around him, and just when the silence had begun to get comfortable again, turned back around to face him with a hopeful smile. "I haven't seen that much of you for a while. You keeping busy, too?"

"Indubitably," he said faintly, allowing his eyes to flicker briefly shut. He was just so tired.

"Oh? That's good." He pried deeper at the panel with a grimace, then turned to scratch a second calculation down. "If you're avoiding us because of- well, me... you don't have to."

That, at least, was enough to provoke him wider awake, just enough to frown at him out of the corner of his eye. "Pardon?"

"You know, because of the other guy?" He spread a hand over his chest, still smiling, but there was something off about it, something unsure. "I get recent events might not inspire the greatest confidence, but I've got a lid on him, now. He's not coming out... he actually doesn't mind you all that much, anyway, I think. Thinks of you as like a- favorite pet, or something."

A favorite- _what?_

Loki's face warmed, a heat rising in his cheeks as he drew up just a little straighter against the wall, arms folding and pride bruised. "Charming," he murmured, in the same moment as Dr. Banner seemed to realize what he'd said wasn't all that comforting. "I want to murder you slightly more, now."

"That wasn't- I didn't m-"

"Regardless of the Hulk's feelings about me, I've actually just been busy myself, lately. That's all." Loki folded his legs a little more securely, still staring off into the distance. This was the first time he'd had a conversation, lately, where he'd been able to truly focus, truly listen, not itch with the need to give breath to a double or find himself listening as if from far away or both. Somehow, his mouth opened again; perhaps to dissuade further questions, perhaps not. "I wasn't aware you were an engineer."

"Huh? Oh, I'm not. I... screwdriver, please?"

Once again, it was Loki's turn to frown, a breath before he twisted it into a prying, indelicate smile. "That sounds like a cross between a violent end, and a very pleasant time."

"I-" Dr. Banner flushed straight past an embarrassed pink to red, this time- which was, admittedly, the only color change he'd like to see on the man. Loki couldn't help a even broader grin. "No, screwdriver, it's a tool, you-" He made small turning motions with his hand, like he was working at an invisible gear, then just sagged with a moan. "Can you get these two out, for me?"

Loki glanced sideways out of the corner of his eye, allowing his smile to twitch again. "Indubitably," he repeated, "but I am disappointed." He reached over without really looking, and sure enough, the screws came loose in his hand with barely the slightest sense of exertion. "The task is much less interesting than the name suggests."

His face still faintly red, the doctor made another huffing sound as he knelt back down to work. "You're worse than Tony, did you know that? It's like working with two children; two grown, man-sized, actual children." He tsked under his breath, and Loki had to bite carefully at his lower lip to stop himself from murmuring _indubitably_ a third time.

"And I'm not an engineer," he continued on again then, as if he had never been distracted at all. "I'm a nuclear physicist. You know, when I'm not smashing things. I've picked up some mechanic skills, and Tony's taught me a few things, but really, none of my PhDs are in flying alien spaceships."

"Then you are not inspiring great confidence, as I watch you tinker with the item that allows this alien spaceship to run."

He rolled his eyes again, and this time, his smile seemed a little more genuine. "This isn't the engine. Give me that." He reached, and Loki leaned back to allow him access back to his pile of scattered papers. "Anyway, I talked with Thor, and it was sounding like nobody who actually knows how to run this thing made it on board. Then we found these engineer's blueprints, and we thought that someone who could make an educated guess was better than someone who couldn't make one at all." He made another face, going elbow-deep into a mess of wires. "I do wish I had google out here, though."

"I... see."

The doctor laughed as he pulled back, wiping an arm along his forehead. "I'll explain it to you when we get to Earth. You'll love it... wrench?"

_"...Excuse me?"_

"A-" Dr. Banner waved his hand for a moment, not quite seeming to get it, and then- ah. _There_ it was. The blood drained from his face, eyes going wide, and the sound of his stomach dropping was quite nearly audible and the most amusing sound of the year, at that, as he jerked back, staring at Loki like the knife was already right there in his hands."No, no, I didn't mean- not that! A _wrrrench,_ it's another tool, you loosen and tighten-..." His throat jumped, face still pale, and looking so abruptly horrified it was the best thing he'd seen all day. "...please don't kill me."

Loki grinned back. The look on his face in response was positively delicious. "Well, perhaps I shan't... brother would be ever so disappointed." He reached over obediently, never breaking their gaze, and with one smooth jerk and lick of his lips, had freed the gear into his hand.

Dr. Banner still looked absolutely scandalized, and it took more than one deep, anxious shudder for him to sink back to work- this time, inching very carefully away to pull as much back as he could and still be in reach of the panel.

All right, so perhaps he had known, what a wrench was.

Still worth it.

Indubitably.

Dr. Banner worked in silence for a couple minutes more, seeming a little wary of breaking it only to misstep again, and Loki not feeling at all awake or sociable enough to break it himself. He almost regretted inspiring the silence, now, because this had been one of the first conversations he'd genuinely enjoyed in- what had to have been weeks, now. The first time it had been a conversation to not become an interrogation, prying questions into where he'd been, why he looked strange, what was _wrong._

It had been nice, to just simply sit there and be Loki, for a little while.

At last, the man sat back to wipe at his forehead again, hands falling together in his lap as he frowned on at the wall, seeming both thoroughly tired and thoroughly discouraged. "The conductor's malfunctioning," he muttered, scowling.

"I see," Loki said again, although, rather, he really didn't. "Is this a matter of concern?"

"Not... really. The ship should be fine without it. Just-" He sagged again, looking rather put out, then scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I fixed everything, but this is meant to help power the cooling system, among other things. Which actually wasn't the greatest decision, because it uses a superconductor, which relies on said cooling system for low temperatures to work. If we could just get it cold enough to kick into gear, I think it'd run on its own... I just don't know if we have anything cold enough on the ship to work."

The doctor continued murmuring to himself, then searching at the blueprints again, back lost in his own little world, and Loki had no desire to draw him out of it. For a moment, he was content to just sit there and half-doze, because it certainly was not _his_ problem, and if the problem had no solution, then the mortal would be soon to leave and he would be soon to get his peace back.

And then, something about the situation settled in his head.

Low temperatures.

They needed low temperatures.

And...

Well, here he was, wasn't he?

Loki took a moment to just sit there, pinching his nose and breathing sickly into his fist, the passing thought revolting and imbecilic and that was that. Dr. Banner had just said, it wasn't an emergency. They'd be quite fine with or without this broken part, and thus, there was no need for him to expend the exertion necessary to fix it. It was _certainly_ not worth opening up this can of worms with Dr. Banner- as the Midgardians would say.

He closed his eyes, still fighting for each measured breaths, and forced calm.

He was just so very, very tired.

_Ah, Hel._

_I'm going to die in a few days, anyway._

"Dr. Banner," he said quietly, and- there it was, again. Hearing the words as if from far away, and the aches and pains and world about him all faded away into a curious, not unpleasant numbness. "I'd recommend taking a few steps back."

He heard the doctor say something, a few uncertain, confused protests in the back of his head; they washed over him like rain. "This?" he asked, carefully fitting his hand about a pale, rather important looking ring. "This is the superconductor you referred to?"

"That- yes," he said, and ah, now, there he was, getting close again. "It is, but what are you-"

And for the second time in as many weeks, Loki took a deep breath, and changed.

It wasn't as complete, as it had been with Heimdall. He wasn't doing it to shock or scare, so he allowed the transformation to crawl up only near to his elbow and then stop, a deep chill of blue that exuded cold so strongly he could feel it bite into his heart. His body fought it for a moment, clinging to the shape it knew instead of the shape it was meant to be, but Loki fought back, and after a second breath the change settled, and the cold was here to stay.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing but shocked, _(horrified)_ silence.

Then:

_"Woah."_

Loki smiled back, trying not to see disgust, trying not to see horror. "I told you to take a few steps back."

The man squeaked, faintly, still ogling him with shocked wide eyes, but still- still- he did not draw back. He leaned carefully closer, hand inching forwards then jerking back each time, staring... gawking, perhaps. As if he were a caged, mystical animal in a zoo. "Can the other Asgardians do this?"

"...No."

"This is incredible," he breathed, voice low and shocked with some emotion that Loki could not identify. "Is this- you said you weren't Asgardian, is-"

"If you touch it, it will kill you."

This, at least, got the human to fall back, a little, but for some reason not _enough._ Bruce still stayed on his knees only a foot or two back, hands hovering and eyes wide and when Loki snuck a careful glance to the side, he was _smiling._ "You can actually shapeshift, then? It's not just illusions, you really can change form? I've touched you before and was all right, so-"

"If you _don't_ mind," Loki hissed, silencing the awed speech swifter than a knife to the throat. It was unsettling to his core and he'd never been looked at like that before, and without knowing quite what it was, all he was sure of was that he wanted for it to stop. _Now._ "This actually requires a bit of concentration, so might the interrogation wait until the task at hand is completed, Dr. Banner? Or would you prefer allowing for my focus to slip, and so for you to freeze to death in the process?"

This, at last, got the chattering human to shut his mouth, and Loki grinned back, still vicious, still cruel, still cold. It wasn't true. It took hardly an ounce of concentration at all; it took less than that because this was his _real_ form, this was who he _naturally was,_ but that was the focal point, wasn't it?

This was who he was, and he was not going to talk about it.

And certainly not to the likes of Dr. Bruce Banner.

The human fell quiet for a few moments, still staring at him, still too close, but not- disgusted. Not- _everything._ "...Sorry," he murmured, actually sounding abashed, and only pulled back the requisite few inches so as to no longer be crouched right in his face. There was another pause, thick and uncomfortable and itchy, and then the doctor spoke up again. "Can I still talk? Will that distract you?"

"...You are free to do whatever you like, so long as you do not touch me."

"That's... noted."

Another short, uncomfortable silence fell.

"I'm sorry," the mortal said finally, though didn't much sound it. "I think everything's still a little... loose, in here." He tapped at his head, even as he settled back against the wall, at last far enough away that he couldn't see, wasn't just _there._ "I've been focusing on keeping the other guy under control, but I think after two years like that, it's... I guess I've been trying to work on things a lot. Find projects to focus on, so I don't have to think about it." His hand wrung out anxiously, but, to his credit, at least, he stayed perfectly calm. "Thor's- an okay listener. He tries. But he thinks he understands, when he too often doesn't. I guess you already knew that, though, huh?"

"What about asking me questions is included in _not speaking to me?"_

Dr. Banner laughed slightly again, and somehow, in that sound, Loki knew his ruse had been read for what it was. "Sorry," he repeated, raising a hand, not sounding sorry at all. "You doing good, over there? Ah- don't answer that. I just mean, if it gets too difficult, don't worry about it. I could probably make something to cool it down enough with you later- and it'll be fine, regardless. It's not worth hurting yourself over." He smiled again, a slight, bleary twist as he shook his head. "Your brother would kill me over it, for one..."

A crooked smile slipped into place, Loki tilting his head and saying nothing. _I'm not so sure,_ he could taste, the words bitter and halfway humorous, halfway not, but they got lost somewhere in his throat and all he had was silence.

And thus, things continued just like that.

Dr. Banner, actually true to his word, seeming to be grappling with his own issues, the words meandering and high-strung at best, nearing hysteria at worst. Two years as the Hulk really had taken its toll, and while he insisted it was getting better, it was... unnerving. Loki would've actually rather liked to get as far away from him as possible, upon that realization, but there was no opportunity to yield a graceful exit. And so that was how he was left: sitting there uncomfortably on the floor, freezing whatever a superconductor was solid, and listening to their resident actually-not-intolerable mortal chatter on.

It was... actually peaceful.

After a few slip-ups, Dr. Banner stopped expecting responses from him, and managed to tune his aimless ramblings into ones that didn't end in a question that necessitated an answer. He talked about everything and nothing, nothing of importance and everything that didn't matter. Ordinarily it would've annoyed him, someone who had to fill the silence with _noise,_ but he could recognize at least that this wasn't about him. That he needed to talk to quiet the unease in his head, and that...

Loki could sympathize.

In fact, sitting there like that on the cold floor, he felt as if he listened hard enough, he could quiet the whispering voices in his own head, too.

"And when I get back on Earth, the first thing I'm going to do is find Nat and tell her... I'm not sure, yet. I think there are a lot of things I need to tell her. You've met her, Loki, Natasha Romanoff- she actually really hates you, but Thor will vouch for you. He always does. And. You came back for us, in Asgard. I never properly thanked you for that, did I? Nat will- she might also hit you, but she'll thank you for helping me, helping Thor... do you actually know that much about Earth, Loki? Thor mentioned Norway, to me, do you know what that is? I spent some time there, you'll all love it, it's..."

* * *

When Loki up, the first thing he realized was that he was uncomfortable as all hells in all of the Nine Realms combined.

The second he realized was that he was actually _waking up._

That was all he had to know.

"What in the-" he spat, snarling, curling in a protective whirl, breathing hard past clenched teeth. He scrambled back till his back met a wall, gaze turned in an almost blind panic about his surroundings. Seeking answer, seeking security, seeking safety-

And instead, he only found two things.

His own blue, frozen skin, crawled all over him as infectious and spreading as a fatal disease.

And, Thor.

Sitting there across from him, cross-legged, resting back against a wall of his own, and smiling. Brighter and gentler and kinder than any being across the entire spreading universe had a single right to.

"Good morning, brother," he said, and Loki's heart skipped so violently that he felt it right in the pit of his stomach.

"What are you- _Thor!"_ Loki pushed away with a second snarl, each breath coming scraped out of his lungs and his hands- his _claws_ \- scrabbling for purchase against skin that was too cold. "When did you-" Baring his teeth, he forced his hands down, snatching for his seidr and slamming it back down so viciously it hurt. His form rocked back to normalcy with a violent brutality, ragged and wet and bloody, but only when he saw skin and not blue could he breathe again, pressed hard still against the far wall and heart pounding but sane.

And all the while, Thor remained across from him, just _watching._

Loki glared back, heart thudding and anger a lit match begging to set ablaze the world itself. "Explain yourself," he hissed, _or, you miserable, lumbering oaf, I will cut out your tongue._

Thor raised his hands, the universal gesture for peace, which was really not all that persuasive when he was still _smiling_ like that. "Bruce came looking for me. It took some maneuvering, since we couldn't touch you, but finally figured it out that you were asleep, and not, in fact, keeled over dead for no reason whatsoever." He smiled again, but it came out brittle, a little, pained, and only then broke their gaze so he could reach forwards and retrieve his balled up red cape from the floor. A pillow, Loki realized- a pillow with a fine film of frost, crystallized and lurking along the edges like poison.

His heart lurched yet again.

"So," Thor said, shaking his cape out, shedding the frost free without a care in the world. "Feeling better?

"That is none of your business." Loki pressed back still, unable to help a second cursory glance down at himself to  _ensure_ the blue was _gone._ "As if I was not feeling perfectly well- and you had no right to- to-"

"To what? To see my brother? To see my brother underneath all the glamours you dress yourself up in?"

 _"Exactly,"_ Loki snarled, and that, at last, was finally enough to make Thor's face fall.

It was no small part of him, that enjoyed it.

"...Loki," his brother said at last, and while argumentative current in it had drained, that _look_ on his face was still there. That look that he knew meant everything that he did not like and could not stand. "Your true skin... have you ever truly looked at yourself in it, before? You're so averse to it, but... _I_ think you look-"

"We are not having this conversation, Thor."

By every shred of mercy in the Nine Realms, Thor held his hands up in surrender, yielding the topic without another word of protest. The look on his face clearly said just what he thought about it, but as long as he kept his words to himself, Loki did not mind. Could not care _less_ , actually, about what the oaf was thinking.

Just so long as he kept his mouth shut, and didn't make him think it, too.

"Loki?"

He turned his head away, scowling dangerously and not daring to even look at him. This was the first time he'd really actually spoken with his brother in perhaps a full week, and yet already he itched and shook; wanting to get away, wanting to hide. The moment he could stand without embarrassing himself, he determined, with bared teeth and clenched fists, he would.

 _"What,_ Thor. _"_

"I know you're angry, but- I promise, brother, I'm not here to argue. We don't even have to talk, if you don't want. Just... please." The grimace faded away into a pleading attempt a smile, one that was fragile and fell apart the second it faced even the slightest scrutiny to yield to something near anguish underneath. "Just stay here for a few more minutes, Loki. Rest. You- you look..."

The words trailed off, this time, falling into a lull which Thor's expression chafed and fought with, not sure of what to say that wouldn't set him off. But even without it Loki could hear everything he was thinking and worse, could hear the truth in it all, too.

He did look... _like that._ Thor had caught him before he'd even pulled together the slimmest shreds of a glamour, and so Loki knew exactly what he looked like, and exactly what Thor felt about it.

He also knew that after the most hours of rest that he'd gotten in weeks, and still sitting there on the floor now, away from anyone's prying eyes except his brother's own...

There was no part of him well enough to get up again, and face yet another day of soul-deep terror, and waiting to hear the Valkyrie sound the alarm.

No part of him except his own slaughtered pride, and there wasn't enough of that left to breathe on.

The look on Thor's face, when he let himself relax minutely back against the wall, was nothing short of sunny, inexorable relief. Loki's heart gave another uncomfortable lurch, and he once again kept his gaze tuned very safely away, so he wouldn't have to see it and accept what it meant.

For just that moment, there, the comfortable silence between them, no interrogation, no prying questions he could not answer, no lurking suspicion he could not face...

For just that moment, Loki wanted it to last forever.

And then, of course, Thor had to go and ruin it.

"I hear you've been talking to Val and Heimdall, lately."

Loki tensed, a whisper of panic clawing its way about his throat. He glared back, not saying anything, not daring to, but Thor gave him that disarming smile again, waving down his hostility like it was a dog to be chastened. "Relax," he said gently. "No one's been informing on you to me. You just really haven't been as subtle as you think. And, it's rather difficult to keep secrets, when we're all stuck here together on this ship."

"...I'm sure," he murmured, still watching Thor with narrowed eyes.

Watching, and waiting as he had been for weeks, for the hammer to fall.

_Does he know?_

_Thor, do you know?_

His brother held silent for a moment more, one solitary eye watching his in a way that said _I have changed._ A lifetime ago, that gaze would've been one of wariness and unease, the assuredness that something was being planned and he was not a part of it. Years ago, that gaze would've been one of outright distrust and suspicion, every ounce of it earned and every bit of it deserved.

Now...

Now, it was a gaze of genuine worry, and shared pain.

Loki swallowed hard again.

"Listen," Thor said at last. He sat forward a little, elbows resting on his knees, hands curling together, watching him with an earnest sincerity that was too much, but there was just nowhere to hide. "I said you wouldn't have to say anything, if you didn't want, and I meant that. But please, Loki, listen to me. Whatever it is that you're not telling me, whatever it is that's happening. I want you to trust me with it, but... _I_ trust _you."_

"You shouldn't," he said, before he'd ever quite meant to.

But Thor merely shook his head back, steadfast and sure. _"_ I'm King, now- I shall do what I like, and what I like right now is to see good in you, brother, even when you refuse to admit you see it yourself. I won't force you to talk to me, not if you don't wish to speak. I wish you would trust me with it, but... perhaps trust is a two way street."

Loki tried to scoff, to wave away the words as a dusty irritant and nothing more. But Thor knew him too well, and Loki was too tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of lying.

Tired of _this._

But Thor did not press him on it. Not as the old Thor would've done, to which the old Loki would've responded with knives and threats, insults primed to sail through his battle armor and pin him through like a butterfly under glass. This Thor sat forward again, his gaze piercing but _kind_ , somehow, and he said, "And I've something else to say, as well," and forged on like a king. "Loki. I am glad that you are here. I was glad when you returned, for us, for all of Asgard, but I am even more glad that you are still here, that you have chosen to remain by my side now that there is not much to keep you here. I love you, Loki. Secrets or no. And I don't want you to leave, again. I have you watched you die too many times to accept it a third time. I want you to be happy, or- or at least something close to it, not hiding down here in the dark, not sleeping, looking like a drowned rat-"

"What- _excuse_ me."

"Have you seen a mirror, lately?" Thor countered, grinning at last like a teasing brother that he could recognize, again.

It took a moment for the warm fondness in his throat to fade, but somehow, when it did, all Loki wanted to do was grin and bicker right back.

Thor's smile merely broadened when he had no retort, but it still had that gentle edge to it, kindness where before there might've been mocking or carelessness. The silence felt awkward, to him, pressing in tightly about from all sides, waiting to drag the words unwilling from his mouth, wanting to scream them until they were heard and could never be taken back. And all Loki knew was to cough and fidget and swallow, because all he knew was _I can't tell you, Thor._

"You don't have to say anything," Thor murmured. If he was let down or disappointed, it didn't show. "I meant that. But I thought that _I_ at least should."

And then, he actually stopped talking.

As if that was just- the end of it. That he'd prepared all of that little speech and delivered it to him, and that he'd also meant what he'd said: _you don't have to say anything._

Because Thor was afraid, he realized.

Thor knew how often he'd run in the past, and he was afraid that if he pushed him, now, truly confronted him, then he would run again.

For several moments on, Loki could not do anything but want to laugh.

It wasn't really all that funny.

And still, the silence lingered on, waiting for him to break it.

Because he did have to. Because Thor could insist _you don't have to say anything_ all he liked; the face of the matter was, he did. Thor had come here, gave his little speech, and now Loki was meant to respond. All Thor really meant when he told him he didn't have to was _you don't have to give me what I want,_ but Loki would still have to give _something._

And once again, Thor seemed to have grabbed his silver tongue, and yanked it speechless.

He could do it. He could say it. He'd so carefully hid the truths from the Valkyrie, muddied them for Heimdall, hid so thoroughly from Thor's sight because of _this,_ but now he was here and- he could do it. He could open his mouth and look at Thor and there it all would be. Every secret of the last five years laid bare, every terror that slithered along the scars in his head, every lingering curse that snarled against his veins, lanced like a rotting infection and allowed to sing.

He could say it.

_Thanos is coming._

_We're all going to die._

_He found me after I fell. He ruined me. He tortured me until there was nothing left and I'm sorry I never told you. I've been running from him for five years and he's going to kill me. He's going to tear me apart a second time and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you on Midgard. I'm sorry I can't tell you now. I'm terrified and I want you to fix it and I know you can't._

_I'm sorry this is the closest we've been in a century and it's all going to fall apart because I can't tell you the truth._

_He's going to kill you, and it's my fault._

Loki stared back at Thor, hollow inside and out and mouth open but nothing in his throat but the taste of ash. The silence of five years was a noose tightened around his throat and somehow, with each secret added to the pile, it got harder and harder to say anything at all.

He could say it.

He _wanted_ to say it.

In the end, the memory of Ebony Maw's fingers in his head lingering as the cold slip of a wet snake's slimy scales, he'd always known that he could not say any of it at all.

"...Thor?"

His brother leaned forward an inch, and no matter what he'd say there was a new and eager light in his eye. "Yes?" he murmured back, and his voice came out restrained but Loki could hear the earnest hope lurking just beyond.

Something hard and entirely unpleasant squeezed in his chest, and his answering smile back tasted sick.

 _Thor, I'm so sorry,_ he wanted to say. Was so close he could hear it.

And still, something else came out instead.

"Do you remember what I told you, on the day of your coronation? Your first one?" He closed his eyes, just so he wouldn't have to see the realization, when it hit. The crumbing of hope, the resignation and perhaps worse, the disappointment.

There was another pause, an unbreakable, insatiable regret lying thick between them. "...Yes," Thor said finally, and then, it didn't matter that his eyes were closed.

He could hear it all there in Thor's voice, just the same.

 _"No matter what happens, never doubt that I love you."_ He couldn't quite open his eyes, couldn't quite think over the restless pounding of his heart, so he left his head tilted back and forced another smile. "That's still true."

Somehow, even with his eyes closed, he could still feel the disappointment emanating all the way from across the room.

"Do you realize," Thor began, his voice a low, thundering rumble, "how alarming that is, for that to be all you can say to me now?"

"Of course." He risked a teasing attempt at a smile, but somehow when it came down to it, couldn't quite get himself to look at his brother again. "I wouldn't be me if it wasn't."

There was another grim sigh, and Loki couldn't help it; he tensed, again. He tensed because he knew the old Thor would not let it rest with that. Because Thor was King, now, and had every right and expectation to drag the truth out of him or cast him from the ship thusly on charges of treason. Because Thor was rightfully tired of secrets, _done_ with them, and long months with Thanos had engrained the expectation of punishment if he said _no,_ and because after centuries of lies he really had no faith in the truth left.

And yet, somehow.

The hammer never fell.

"Ah, Loki." There was indeed disappointment there, but not surprise, and somehow, that hurt more than nearly any alternative would've. "I love you, too."

 

**Author's Note:**

> And hopefully, this is to be followed up with an Infinity War AU, but as I have a concept for exactly One scene in such a fic and nothing at all more- we shall see ;u;  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (Also I had such fun writing Bruce. I already loved the guy, but now that I've written him. He will be back. Even if he was a lil OoC because Ragnarok seemed to rattle the poor guy a bit ^_^)


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